


Waiting for the Rain

by MooseFeels



Series: Turn Me On [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Love at First Sight, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up in a shitty mood, but it's not all bad. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for the Rain

Dean wakes up and his heart is thundering in his mouth. It's like his blood is a drum and it is beating through all of his body.  

The song his blood is singing has one verse, over and over. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He's irritable when he gets out of the shower, he's grumpy when he eats breakfast, and he's enraged by the time he gets to work. He slams file cabinets, he breaks a mug, he tears papers, snaps pens in half. The other librarians must have picked up on it, because they pulled him from desk duty and put him in the back. He's probably putting off stink, too.

 

Funny thing about omegas- they smell great. Like, sugar and sand and cold sheets and apples and peaches and cilantro and soap and clean. Alphas, though, alphas hit rut and they smell. It's like sweat but amplified- salty and musky and gross. Dean hates his rut, and he hates his stink. 

 

They let him go home halfway through his shift and he goes home to sit in his bedroom, horny and miserable.

 

He sits there for an hour and a half before he becomes impossibly hungry (yaaay, ruts!) and goes to grab something at a diner.

 

He puts on a surgical mask so the smell of the diner doesn't make him want to tear his skin off (or someone else's) and heads out to his car. 

 

He gets to the diner and he's there for ten minutes before he smells it.

 

The only way Dean could begin to explain it is "Christmas morning." Smells like joy and hope and caramel and oranges and chocolate- something dark and smoky and strange for the smell of-

 

It's the smell of an omega. 

 

Dean tears off the medical mask and looks around frantically. 

 

The smell goes several degrees more intense,  but it's also flooded by the smell of the diner. The smell of other alphas and paired omegas makes Dean's skin crawl and threatens to tear a growl from his throat. He gets up from the booth and looks across the diner and he sees him. He sees the omega.

 

He looks like he's probably in college. Couple years younger than Dean, maybe an inch or two shorter. He's got dark hair that looks like he's been running his hands through it all day (because if someone else has been running their hands through it, Dean will make sure they don't have hands.) Narrow, dear little hips with the most beautiful ass Dean has ever seen.

 

A thin growl comes from his throat, and the omega turns around, startled. 

 

He has bright, beautiful blue eyes, and once they fix on Dean, he's pretty sure they both know it's all over. 

 

The guy tears his apron off and walks away from the table, much to his patron's chagrin. He walks to Dean and throws his arms over him and kisses him, long and sweet. Impossibly sweet.

 

"Alright,  alright," Someone from the kitchen shouts. "Get outta here already, Christ, you're stinkin' the place up."

 

The guy pulls away from Dean and he says, "Your place. Now."

 

Dean nods. He likes this guy. Bossy. 

 

The guy tugs him out of the diner by his hand, fingers twined tight between Dean's.

 

Dean really doesn't mind walking behind him. 

 

The guy knows exactly which car is Dean's. 

 

They lean up against the impala and the guy  keeps kissing him. He gnaws at Dean's lips with sharp teeth.  The idea is clear- Dean might be the alpha, but this guy is the one in charge. 

 

"Wait," Dean gasps, "wait, wait. Your name, what's your name?"

 

"Castiel," he growled. 

 

"Dean," he answered. 

 

"Hello, Dean," he said. "Please, fuck me."

 

"Oh my god, I think I love you,"  Dean moaned. "Get in the goddamn car."

 

Castiel shakes his head. "You're not driving, not like this. You're scent drunk."

 

"And you're going into heat, smartass. How are we gettin' to a fuckin' bed?"

 

"Can't afford a taxi," Castiel whimpers.

 

That's not surprising, really. It's hard for omegas to get jobs. Employers don't like to pay for birth control and hear surpressents, and from the way Castiel smells and feels, he hasn't had a job that will give them to him in a while. Probably works three or four part time jobs just for the shitty apartment he lives in- Dean can smell the mold of that place in his clothes and hair. He'll probably lose this job. Mated omegas can't get jobs at all- supposed to stay at home, barefoot and pregnant.

 

"Come on baby," Dean murmurs. "Let me get a taxi. Let me take care of you."

 

Castiel looks up at him and shrugs out of his grasp. Steps back a bit. "I can take care of myself," he bites. "Been doing it for years, okay?"

 

"Whoah," Dean answers. "I'm not gonna put you in shackles, okay? You're free. You can go whenever you want to. You're free."

 

Castiel looks at him. Rubs his arms. Shivers. "I'm sorry. My last relationship, ah...I'm coming back from a really, rough time. "

 

The Christmas morning smell suddenly changes. Goes impossibly bitter. Dean has to suppress some pretty serious rage. 

 

Instead of screaming at the world, he says, "Look, let me buy you a cab. Get you home for the night and I'll call you."

 

Castiel sighs heavily. "But I want your dick in my ass now."

 

 

 

Dean pulls Castiel back into his arms and says, "Yeah, I'm cool with that, too."

 

Castiel almost seems to purr in his arms. 

 

It's real hard to behave in the cab ride to Dean's apartment, and it's even harder to behave in the elevator. Castiel seems equal parts horny and wonder struck by his surroundings- torn between awe at the elevator and desperate desire to suck Dean's cock. 

 

Dean has trouble remembering how his keys work, so he just tears the knob off the door for now.  Castiel looks at it aghast.

 

"Mmm ," he moans. "Big strong alpha."

 

Dean opens the door. Castiel walks in almost dantily. 

 

"I like 'em big," Castiel sings under his breath. He looks around the apartment, wonder struck. 

 

 

 

"It's not much," Dean says, "but the bedroom isn't that bad."

 

"Bigger than any house I lived in," Castiel says. "What do you do?"

 

"I'm a librarian," Dean answers. "I work with the university."

 

Castiel shrugs. "Big but not stupid," he says. "I'll take one out of two."

 

Dean smiles. "Hot but mouthy," he retorts. 

 

Castiel laughs. It's like bells. 

 

"Do you, uh," he asks, "Do you have a bathroom? I'm about to soak through my- through my-" He coughs. 

 

"What?" Dean says. "Oh, yeah!  Just down the hall."

 

Castiel smiles and heads down the hall. 

 

Dean can't figure out if he wants to sit down or lay down or stand up or jack off or eat or fuck. He can't stop shaking and he can't stop wanting. He's so scent drunk he can't function. 

 

He doesn't notice when Castiel comes out of the bathroom, just when he takes Dean's hand and says, "Hey, puppy. Come on. Show me your nest."

 

 

 

"Okay," Dean whimpers. "Okay."

 

This, really, is what omegas are for. There's all kind of talk about wombs and evolution and the importance of natural submission, but at the end of the day, omegas are home. Omegas live in big safe houses- omegas make big, safe houses. They take care of people- they're overwhelmingly nurses and teachers and counselors and ministers.  They do things like come out of the bathroom and help you fuck them in the ass. 

 

They stumble down the hall and tangle themselves into Dean's bedroom. 

 

"Oh, so nice," Castiel breathes. 

 

 

 

"Good?" Dean asks. The bed is important. Something primal. A signal that he can be a good provider for all the pups he's gonna put in his omega. 

 

"So good," Castiel answers. "Such a good alpha. My good alpha."

 

Dean basks briefly in the praise.

 

"Yours," he answers. "Mine."

 

He practically tosses Castiel into the big bed. He leans down over him and kisses his belly. Kisses down his belly to the button on his pants. Dean growls at it. Angry that it impedes his access to his omega's asshole. 

 

He rips the pants away and Castiel sighs, content. Slick- his natural lubricant- oozes sticky sweet out of his ass. Smells like candy. 

 

"Please," Castiel moans. "Please, please, please."

 

Dean hums happily. 

 

 

 

Dean is hard in his pants when he stumbles out of them, and he's happy like he's never been before as he threads his fingers through Castiel's hair. 

 

"Want, want, want," Castiel groans. "Want you. Need you. Alpha, alpha please."

 

Dean manages to grunt, "Good."

 

Castiel's body is warm and his kisses are deep and hot and  his teeth are sharp, but Dean's are sharper. 

 

He bites into Castiel's neck and Castiel bucks and cries aloud. Exultant. 

 

The bite is more than the fuck, the bite is a promise. The bite means Dean will be there, not just when they wake up in the morning, but for all the mornings after. It's a bone deep wedding ring. 

 

Dean comes and Castiel turns around and kisses him. Kisses his face and neck and eyes and lips. "Love you. Don't even know you and I love you. Love you so much. Never leave me. Please. Don't leave me."

 

"Stay," Dean manages. "Always stay. Love you. Love you, Cas."

 

They're strangers. They're- they're utter strangers. But Dean suddenly realizes that he will spend the rest of his life with this guy. He doesn't care. He doesn't care that he doesn't know him or about anyone before him. He just wants Castiel. He wants to live in a big safe house with him and their kids and his smell covering up his stink. 

 

Castiel screams Dean's name as Dean jacks him off. He pants, satisfied. Sated.  

 

They turn on their sides and look at each other. Castile looks contented. 

 

"It smells like you," he says. 

 

"I'll wash the sheets," Dean answers.

 

Castiel shakes his head. "No, don't. Smell good. Smell," he yawns. "Smells like home."

 

Dean falls asleep with the word in his mouth. 

 

Home.

 

 

 


End file.
